Everything the snow touches is yours
by ultron emperor
Summary: When he saw her for the first time he was almost two hundred years old, two hundred years of solitude and cold, two or three lives condensed in one. She was barely ten or eleven...


**This is my first Jelsa fan fiction. **  
**I'm not English, so I apologize in advance for all the grammatical errors you will find.**

**Enjoy!**

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When he saw her for the first time he was almost two hundred years old, two hundred years of solitude and cold, two or three lives condensed in one. She barely was ten or eleven.

He had asked the wind to take him home, as he always did, almost without realizing it, whispering those words to himself: no one would have heard them anyway. But where was home? He didn't know, or rather, he didn't remember. The wind led him each time to a different place, a place that reflected his mood or that kept him away from that monotonous loneliness for a while. He made it hover over sleepy cities that stretched as far as the eye could see, circling night pastures stuck between steep peaks, where he stopped to listen to the quiet songs of the shepherds, or on the waves of the stormy sea and he clung to the shrouds and jumped from one branch to another of the ships.

And the wind had led him to her, or destiny, more capricious and unpredictable than any other existing force. Even he, being immortal and eternal, could escape from it.

The windows in her window were the only ones in the kingdom to be frozen. That wasn't ice of his bag and he hadn't managed to melt it to see inside. His most enterprising part had convinced him to knock on the window, hoping that someone would open it so he could peek inside. His initial joy, when he saw the shutters open, soon turned into bewilderment, then into astonishment and later into panic.

The little girl facing the windowsill had looked at him, but not as if she were looking into space. She had looked right at him, a being invisible to most, with her piercing blue eyes. She had managed to see it!

Then the child had opened her mouth, as if to scream and he had flown near her, quickly covering it. He had succeeded, he had not passed through her and she had not shivered. Indeed, a strange sensation had tingled in his hand when he had placed it on her lips.

" I won't hurt you, don't worry. Now I'll let you go but don't scream."

Those eyes had stared at him again and the blonde head had nodded. As soon as he let her go, a wall of ice had come between them and this time he had screamed in surprise. He had stammered something incomprehensible, too upset to articulate a meaningful sentence, while a thousand questions crowded his mind.

A clear eye had peered at him from the transparent ice and all of a sudden the girl had reappeared, dissolving with a wave of the hand the wall that separated them.

" Who are you? " she had asked him with a shriveled voice.

" Jack Frost " he whispered breathlessly, stunned by what he had just seen. "Can you see me? How is it possible?"

" Why shouldn't I ?" she asked, with a small, arched eyebrow raised.

" No one can see me, I am invisible like the wind and cold as snow ... I am the spirit of winter" he had told her reciting the verses of a ballad that someone had dedicated to him. Then, beating the stick on the ground, he had given birth to a field of frozen flowers on the floor.

The blue eyes had widened beyond the unbelievable and the small hands had tightened one another, tormenting each other.

" You are like me" he had heard her stutter in tears. The ice flowers at his feet had cracked, being replaced by geometric fractals.

" I don't think so"  
He had observed her well and, although she had seemed something more than a mere child, he hadn't seen the signs of ice on her diaphanous skin, nor the sickles of the moon in her eyes. "Did the man in the moon ever talk to you?"

" There is no one in the moon."

" So you're not like me."

" But you did this !" she protested, pointing to the floor. "You must be like me, otherwise how would it be possible?"

" I was chosen, I didn't ask to be like that."

" Oh…sorry."

" Why? It's not a disease."

" But it's a curse" she had countered with a spark of disappointment in her eyes.

" Well, it's not always easy as it seems to fulfill my duties, but I wouldn't call it a curse. Why do you say this?"

" The cold kills everything on which its coils stretch, like my hands"

She lowered her gaze to the hands wrapped in dark gloves.

The words Anna , my sister and almost killed, had come out several times from the child's mouth that night, while trying to make her understand that no, it wasn't a curse of hers and that yes, there could be some beauty where she only saw cold and death . His snow bunnies had skipped around the room arousing the child's delight. Her huge pale eyes had widened in surprise.

Elsa. This was her name.

" Will you come back to see me? "she had asked him just before he threw himself back into the wind to be taken to another place.

" Whenever possible, I promise you." He had answered with a smile.  
Then, he had thrown a snowflake over her nose and a faint little laugh had come out of her lips. Then he had come out of the window clinging to his cane.

Observing the small kingdom set among the fjords to become smaller and smaller, he wondered when he would see that singular child with penetrating blue eyes.

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He usually kept his promises. Not that he did so many since no one could see him, but when he had occasion, he always tried to keep his word. And he certainly hadn't forgotten about Elsa and the oath he had made her.

But for two long winters, visiting the child was overshadowed on his to-do list. In the first place the question was trying to avoid freezing the crops by mistake ... again.

In the end, one night two years after their first meeting, at the end of the cold season, just before the snow finally melted and winter gave way to spring, he explicitly asked the wind to bring it back to Elsa.

" I came back, saw it" he greeted her by jumping into her room.

" Two years have passed" she had answered, kicking off the covers. She had grown in height and her hair had grown longer, falling over her small shoulders like a cascade of white gold.

" I was very busy. I have a full-time job, I didn't run around in a huge castle all day" he tried to reply, but her expression was saddened even more. "Did I say something wrong?"

" It became stronger" she had simply replied, as if those words explained everything. " Now, if I can, avoid leaving my room"

He hadn't been able to say much, except for a simple and banal _**oh**_ that seemed the stupidest thing to say at that moment, but Elsa's sad face and her white teeth that tormented her lower lip had left him speechless. He had kept her company in silence, trying to make her smile with little riddles and magic with the snow, but she had remained impassive, almost as if every trace of joy had been torn away in a sharp and violent way and she didn't even care noticed. Looking at her had been a heartbreaking show for his heart. All he could do was to squeeze her shyly into a comforting embrace, as if with that simple contact he could drive out every demon crowded in the young girl's soul. A shudder had shaken the princess from head to toe when he touched her.

"Are you cold?" He asked her, worried that his body temperature might annoy her.

" The cold never bothered me" she simply replied, hugging him even more.

And then Elsa had burst into tears: first floor, with silent tears making their way onto her pale face, then stronger, with strangled sobs and painful moans.

That night she had fallen asleep like this, crying in his arms and he too had let himself be carried away by the call of sleep, lulled by Elsa's sweet and rhythmic breathing resting on his chest.

At dawn he had been awakened by the song of a thrush, when the world outside the window of the castle room was still immersed in darkness. Elsa still close to him, as if her life depended on that contact. He had gently untangled himself from her grip, trying not to wake her, then he had tucked her covers in and, before he left her again, he had kissed her hair.

As he flew away from Arendelle for the second time, he had promised himself that he would no longer spend so much time before returning to her.

As usual, he had once again disregarded a promise he had made to himself. He had let another year pass before he saw her again and then another, and that little trip to the north of the world had become routine for him: once a month, during the winter season, he went to visit her.

He tried to bring her joy, but over time it became more and more closed in herself and unfriendly. The fear of hurting someone kept her bound in that room, letting life slip past her. He couldn't bear to see her like that.

" It's not good for you to always be inside this room! You should get some air, stay in the sun! Look at you, you're so pale" he tried to persuade her during one of their meetings.

" I was born like this, it's my natural color" she countered by keeping her eyes staring out the window, and in that lost look he had read the urge to go out and go away from that castle, but also the terror of doing it.

" And then I don't accept advice from a haggard like you" she said with the hint of a smile "Do you have blood flowing in your veins?"

He had never thought about that, and Elsa's words had made him think. So that evening, pricking himself with the needle of the princess's sewing, he had rediscovered the color of his blood, responding to the rhetorical question of his little friend.

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Becoming fond of humans and worrying about their well-being was not something he usually did. However during his wanderings, during the rest of the year in which he took winter to other latitudes far from Arendelle, his mind often ran to Elsa. The sky of a particular shade was enough to remind him of her, closed in that room, isolated from everyone by her choice, incapable of having human contact, ready to foreclose happiness just to see those she loved safe.

He loved her. It was a fact and when that awareness knocked on the doors of his conscience he felt lost. He didn't know how to react to such a feeling or how to handle it. He wondered if Elsa felt the same affection for him.

When he returned to her in December of that winter, he found her intent on something that made him tremble, and not because of the cold. He didn't remember ever having been so frightened as at that moment, when he had found that scene in front of him: Elsa standing in front of the mirror with a very sharp splinter of ice pressed to her chest. If he had arrived a few minutes later he would certainly have blamed himself for the rest of his days.

He had run straight to her, tearing the splinter from his hands with a furious gesture and with a jerk had turned her towards him. At first he hadn't noticed the copious tears that fell from her eyes.

He had found himself in front of a girl, almost a woman, trembling and scared, shocked by the existence that fate had destined for her. He had embraced her in an hug that had seemed to last an eternity.  
"Stop crying, Elsa. Please" he had wisheperd.  
She hadn't answered, she kept hiding her face in his chest.

"Why Elsa? Why did you want to do it? I care about you, how do you think I would have felt when I didn't find your window open?"

He could feel the pain and negative thoughts that were stirring inside her, yet he couldn't find words to comfort her with. She did not speak that time, nor did she rebel against his grip: she was drawn to him in search of that comfort that he could not give her.

He had tried it anyway. He couldn't leave her to soak in hatred towards herself.

" Why can't you see how strong you are? How powerful you are! Elsa, listen: everything the snow touches is yours. No one other than you has this power, you are unique. A brilliant miracle in the greyness of the world."

He tried to make her understand how he saw her, not as an anomaly but as an extraordinary being.  
He had pushed her away from him, clasping her hands, and at that moment he realized how much she had grown in those months of distance: the cheekbones had risen, taking the place of the plump cheeks, the lips had filled and the eyelashes had lengthened to frame those pure and ancient eyes. How old was she at that time? Fifteen? Sixteen?

" Why can't you see how beautiful you are" he muttered as he stroked her cheek. He had seen her jump, meet his gaze and then take it away in the time of a breath. She was really beautiful.

In the years to come he would not have been able to explain what had attracted him so close to her, how he had managed to find himself touching Elsa's perfect nose and pressing his cold lips against her soft ones.

The fact was that this was his first kiss and, judging by her reaction, even Elsa's.

She had pushed him away after few seconds and hid her face in her hands.

"Forgive me" he had said with a faint voice. He had approached the window, ready to leave at her slightest sign, but she had pulled him by the arm.

" …Stay" she had pleaded him and he had never been so happy to accept.

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Those rendezvous of theirs had taken place for an unspecified number of times, until one night, on one of the coldest nights he had ever remembered, the window of Elsa's room remained closed when he knocked. Ice often and impenetrable to cover the glass, like the first time he had met her.

He kept knocking, with a hunch that something terrible had happened to her, but she hadn't opened it. He had been stationed over Arendelle for two whole days, waiting to see those shutters open, and instead the only thing he had seen was the doors of the castle: a long silent procession had come out at dawn on the second day. At the head a girl dressed in black with her head covered, surrounded by a squad of guards and following a crowd of people, with her head bowed and her hands clasped.

He had followed the procession up a hill, until he came to a meadow where two stone stems with the names of the sovereigns stood out. Elsa's parents.

He had approached the girl dressed in black, standing between the two huge tombstones and had been beside her for the duration of the ceremony. Even though he had never seen her before, he knew who it was: Anna. Elsa had described her to him.  
The last time they met she had confessed that she hadn't seen her sister for two years in a row, and that she was afraid of forgetting how she was.

The hair of the color of the setting sun, blue eyes like the spring sky and a smile that could have warmed the coldest of hearts. This is the portrait that Elsa had made for him. But on that occasion no smile had shone on the little girl's lips, who had continued to cry in silence with her eyes lowered, her hands clasped in her lap and her lips pressed between her teeth.

Where was Elsa in all that pain? Why wasn't she next to her sister?

Something had suggested he follow Anna to get to her, and so he did. The girl had traveled alone through the infinite dark corridors of the castle and then suddenly stopped in front of a white door, took a deep breath and knocked.

Three blows that had sounded like cannon shots in the silence of that ominous day.

" Elsa, can you let me in ?" her sister had asked with a light voice. No noise, nor any response had come from the other side of the door. "I know you're in there, people wonder what happened to you" she continued undaunted, resting her foreheads on the chiseled wood.  
"They tell me to be brave and I'm trying, but how can I do without you? Please, open the door !"

The tears had started to fall again and she had slumped against the door, letting herself slip to the floor.  
"What are we going to do now that we are alone ?"

She had brought her knees to her chest and continued to sobbing incessantly for an indefinite time, hoping that Elsa would open her. He had remained helpless in front of so much pain, unable to bring her any relief.

" Elsa, it's me, open the door" he whispered in the lock. "Don't leave her out here, now she has only you."

Not even his heartfelt prayer had had any effect. Then, he sat next to Anna, invisible, waiting with her .

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That year he had stayed in Arendelle for the entire winter, a winter that in the annals had turned out to be the coldest of the last hundred years in that remote corner of the north.

Elsa had never left her room, neither to console her sister nor to await her new duties as ruler. Despite everything he had never stopped whispering to that bolted door. He had hoped in vain to have a fleeting vision of her, to check that she was all right, to make sure she had not let herself slip into the abyss of despair. But everything had been useless.

Elsa had become a ghost in her own home.

When spring had come to Arendelle and the first shoots had pierced the snow, he had been forced to go away to fulfill his winter spirit duties on the other side of the world.

He had left an ice flower on Anna's window sill and then flown away without looking back. He knew he would try to forget Elsa and that little kingdom, but he also knew that it would be very difficult.

**The End**

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**Did you liked it?**

**Maybe I'll do a sequel, if it get a good response. The question is...do you want a sequel? **


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